


Fullmetal Alchemist: Role Exchange

by Brandon_Reed



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: All the homunculi are human, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Gen, Human!Envy, Human!Gluttony, Human!Greed, Human!Sloth, Role Reversal, human!Lust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-10-18 00:37:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10605651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brandon_Reed/pseuds/Brandon_Reed
Summary: An alternate universe, where Hohenheim intentionally made himself immortal and created the homunculi, while Father was the victim that finds a family.Imagine an alternate universe, where every character is changed. I, myself, had a challenge to do so. Yet, I believe I have a suitable cast swapping:Envy plays Ed, Ed plays Greed, Greed plays Ling, Ling plays Gluttony, Gluttony plays Jean Havoc and Vato Falman, Falman plays Yoki, Yoki plays Maes Hughes, Hughes plays Kimblee, Kimblee plays Roy Mustang, Mustang plays Lust, Lust plays Riza Hawkeye, Hawkeye plays Wrath, Wrath plays Izumi Curtis, Izumi plays Olivier, Olivier plays Pride, Pride plays Alphonse, Alphonse plays Envy.I will choose not to spoil the rest, but I think that takes care of the vital cast.





	1. Xerxes - Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate your interest.  
> Side note: If it has any spelling or grammatical mistakes, I swiftly wrote the first few chapters (The Xerxes Plot) on my phone. They may also seem short or rushed, but that is because the actual origin story is short and I didn't feel a ton of backstory would be wise, since it seems to be in a chronological order.

* * *

 

"Young man," the little entity within the flask called out.

The homunculus had just been alive for a moment or so. It took him only a moment to realise that he was trapped within a tiny container. _Great_ , he thought, _I manage to be taken to a completely new realm, and I'm still not free_.

After a moment of disgruntled moping, his common sense caught up with him. _Where am I_? he pondered before looking around. Well, in a way, he was looking around; in his current form, he was just a ball of gaseous material, which happened to possess the ability to absorb the stimuli around him.

Once he figured out how to look past the glass of the flask, he saw that he was within a room. From his tiny perspective, the room seemed rather large. His flask sat on a desk, alongside thick books, beakers, and equipment that would not be out of place in a lab. The desk was adjacent to a window, where the sun was currently shining through.

The little homunculus became aware of another confusing question. _How do I know what any of these things are_? he thought puzzlingly, _I've never been here before, right_.

Something within him told him that he knew the answer, but nothing came to his mind.

Then he noticed the other creature in the room. The human. His human. The one that gave him blood. Yes, now it made sense. He could feel a certain attraction to it.

The human in particular was unconscious, sitting on a bed as well as leaning on a broom in his grasp.

The homunculus thought it would be best to communicate with this human. He might prove to be useful to him. After all, the homunculus didn't feel too capable of moving like this, and having his own fleshy vehicle might come in handy.

He called out to him, but that didn't seem to wake him.

"Hey," he tried again, "you there!"

That worked in awaking him. Almost too well; he shot up immediately and wore a persona of fear. He likely thought he was in trouble. Sleeping on the job, if the homunculus had to guess. Understandable, though; he had just lost a lot of blood.

"It's alright," the homunculus assured the young human.

Luckily, the human had calmed down a bit. His expression now showed confusion over anything else. He stood up and began peering around the room. So he hadn't noticed him yet. The homunculus tried not to giggle at the human's density.

"Look. Over here," he told the boy.

At last, they had both made contact. _This is quite an eventful moment_ , the homunculus thought.

The human didn't give the exact reaction that the homunculus would have desired, however. He tilted his head to the side lazily before saying. "Yeah?"

Now the homunculus was confused. He had assumed that humans rarely met entities like himself. Why wasn't this a shock to him?

"Hey now," he began, intending to query the human, "can't you at least bring yourself to be a little surprised or something?"

The human was quick to answer back with follow-up question.

"What do I get for acting surprised?"

Finding the funny side of that response, the homunculus stated with mirth, "Oh. You show no fear. I like that."

The human seemed very intriguing to the homunculus. Since he was the one to give him life, the tiny sub-creature felt it necessary to learn as much about him as possible. From what he was aware of, thanks to the given knowledge he'd been birthed with, he understood that humans were identified with names. That seemed like a good place to start.

"What's your name?"

"I'm Number 23."

That didn't sound like a real name. _Perhaps the human is a little confused_.

"Not your number," the homunculus stated, "I want you to tell me your real name"

"I'm a slave. I don't have one."

Oh. That was an interesting development.

"A slave?" the homunculus thought over the word, finding an appropriate definition, "You mean a person without any rights or freedoms. Someone trafficked and deeded as a possession?"

"Deeded? What's that?"

"It's when a piece of property is transferred to another person."

"Huh?"

The homunculus found the human's dumb confusion quite adorable. He just managed to keep himself from laughing when he said, "Seems you're not all that bright, are you?"

The slave didn't take the homunculus' snide remark too kindly. He yelled, "Hey! Get out 'a here!"

The homunculus ignored the outburst. He was no longer concentrating on him. Instead, he was in thought. He had been basing his new knowledge on the theory that the human that gave him blood had somehow shared his understanding of the world with him. Yet, now that he actually spoke to the human, he wasn't too sure. He might know more about the world than an actual local.

"How could I've possibly been born from someone as stupid as you?" the homunculus asked absentmindedly.

The human, rather than getting even more angry, went right back to confused.

"Huh?"

The homunculus could tell what puzzled the young slave, and he thought now would be the best time to make sure.

"You… are the one that gave me blood, right."

The slave looked to his left arm, which was wrapped with rags.

"I guess so. He said he was using it for an experiment."

So that explained it. Someone else had created him and the slave standing before the resultant had only given him the blood required to live. The homunculus, in a small way, felt indebted to the boy.

"I exist today, because you gave me your blood. Thank you."

The homunculus pondered. He wanted to thank the human in more than simple words. What could this human need. This slave. Oh, of course. He needed a name.

"Let's see. Number 23 isn't going to cut it. I think I'll give you a name of your own."

The human was less than enthusiastic.

"Give me a name. Who are you?"

The homunculus didn't acknowledge the human's clear disinterest.

"You'll want a noble-sounding one, right," the homunculus thought aloud, "Let's see… Theo: Theophrastus Bombastus"

The homunculus took pride in his fantastic creative abilities, though the human seemed unimpressed.

"That's too long."

"Huh? Oh yeah. You're not that smart. Maybe we shouldn't put too many syllables in it."

"Hey, you! I'm plenty smart!"

"Well, how about Van: Van Hohenheim. How does that sound?"

The human tested the name out, and actually ended up approving of it. The homunculus was delighted.

"It's spelled… oh. You don't know how to read or write, do you?"

"I don't need to read or write to do my work." The human retorted.

"Your slave work?"

The homunculus felt a dab of sympathy to the poor boy.

"Don't you even want freedom?" he asked, "Are you going to live out the rest of your life as a slave? Without the rights of a real man?"

The homunculus could actually see a lot of himself in this lowly creature. The slave was trapped by shackles and forced into unfair labour, while he had been entrapped for as long as he had existed.

"In that case," he continued, "you are no different than me: trapped within this stuffy flask."

Now he knew how to repay his Hohenheim.

He made one last effort to reach out to him, "Let me teach you, Van Hohenheim."

The little stir-crazy look appeared on the newly-christened Hohenheim's face.

"Hey," he said uncertainly, "What are you? Who are you? What do I call you?"

The homunculus stopped for a moment. What should he be called? Was it right for him to have a human name? He couldn't be nameless, surely? He tried to think of what he actually could be defined as. Eventually, he found the word: homunculus. It meant 'little human'. That seemed appropriate; he wasn't a full human, sure, but an artificial creation of a human didn't seem too unlike him.

In fact, if he tried, he could manipulate his body. He gave himself an eye, a mouth and what looked to be arms.

He gave Hohenheim a wide smile, "I'll tell you what, Van Hohenheim. You can call me the dwarf in the flask. A homunculus.


	2. Xerxes - Chapter Two

* * *

 

Over the next few months, Hohenheim's status began to climb. With the homunculus' help, he had gone from a slave to an apprentice of his creator. The homunculus managed to do it subtly: not shutting up about him whenever his master was alone with him. As well as that, the homunculus was true to his word and taught Hohenheim all that he could when time allowed. He taught him the basics of the written language, the science of the world they lived in and the basic principles of analysing matter, deconstructing it and then reconstructing it in a new form: a process he called alchemy. Not only that, but Hohenheim has also made process in alchemy from his master.

They were somewhere outside in the evening, when Hohenheim became an alchemist. He had cracked a riddle: one is all, and all is one. The homunculus understood the basic concept: everything in existence is part of the 'all' and is simply in different forms and transferring the same amount of energy. The homunculus wondered if the same rule applied to wherever he had come from. To be frank, the homunculus couldn't really remember where he had originally come from, if he even had come from anywhere. All he remembered was being bound and completely abstinent. He probably would have preferred forgetting about it anyway. He found this new place far more interesting. He could vaguely sense the sun raising the temperature within his flask. He enjoyed the sensation; it was better than in the stagnant room. He wanted to see if he could smell the air, but the flask made it impossible. It was at times like this he desired to be rid of the glass prison. He wanted to truly be free. To experience the whole world with all of his senses. The awareness of his confines always helped to depress him. Perhaps that is why he felt so attached to Hohenheim; he used his new-found freedom to compensate for his lack.

The homunculus looked with joy at his blood-brother. He was beginning to become a rather successful pet project of his.

"I'm grateful to you," Hohenheim said.

The homunculus was taken aback. They had been in silence for a while now. Hohenheim had set him onto the edge of a window to look at the setting sun. The kingdom of Xerxes did look tranquil at this moment. They had been doing that for a while. The homunculus liked it. He found out he had a certain aesthetic for these things.

"Oh," the homunculus said, "for what?"

Hohenheim looked to him with a friendly smile, and explained, "I live as well as I do know thanks to the knowledge you gave me."

The homunculus was flattered, but he continued, "and, I've also earned the master's respect. Thanks to you, maybe someday, I'll even be able to get married and have a family."

Ah yes. Breeding. The homunculus had a general understanding of that. He found it an strange thing, which only made it worse that it would end human existence, if they did not participate in the act. He made his opinion on the matter known, eliciting an unexpected chuckle from Hohenheim.

"Don't call it breeding," he said, "and whether or not it's a concept that you're able to understand: that's where humans find happiness."

The homunculus thought about that point. How could one find happiness in that? The homunculus knew that helping Hohenheim made him feel accomplished and satisfied. Would having offspring trigger the same responses? Did it trigger more? Now that the homunculus thought about it, his curiosity grew.

However, he had to force his curiosity down. He knew as good as any that, even if he did want to reproduce, he did not have the ability to. He tried to change the subject, but Hohenheim kept persistent.

"Okay. What is it that makes you happy?"

The homunculus hadn't been expecting the question. Hohenheim rarely, if ever, asked about his personal thoughts. He was actually feeling something akin to embarrassment.

"W-well, I'd hate to be guilty of asking too much… but I think I'd be happy to just leave this flask."

Hohenheim lazily gazed down at the homunculus. "That's it?" he asked before smirking, "l would've thought you'd have more ambition."

Sighing, the homunculus stared at the colours of the twilight sky.

"I've been imprisoned my whole life, Hohenheim. Even within this world, my freedom is bound to this tiny flask. I… I want to be free, Hohenheim. Free to truly learn about this place."

Hohenheim's expression remained confused, but he spoke regardless, "Sure. I get it."

They remained silent for a few minutes more, before Hohenheim broke it again, "What do you mean: 'even in this world'? Where were you before here?"

The homunculus stuttered. He may have let too much slip. "I-I'm not really sure."

Hohenheim's gaze on the homunculus grew subtly harder. "Go on."

"No, seriously. I'm not aware."

"You're not lying, are you?"

"No."

Hohenheim let the topic go and left the window, "Sure. Whatever you say."

"Umm, Hohenheim," the homunculus called.

Hohenheim looked back at the flask, before realising that he couldn't move. It would not have been the first time the homunculus had been left somewhere overnight, but the dropped temperature for hours was an experience that the homunculus only want to do once.

As the two made their way away from the window, the homunculus looked up at Hohenheim.

"Hey, Hohenheim," he called quietly.

"Yeah," he asked.

"I hope you get that family."

Hohenheim smiled, "I hope you get out that flask."


	3. Xerxes - Chapter Three

* * *

 

"Immortality?" the homunculus asked, dubious. He had gathered that he would be interrogated for secrets eventually. But immortality; that was a high first request.

"Why would someone who already has so much power and prosperity need such a thing?"

It was a perfectly valid question. After spending enough time around Hohenheim and other humans, he had learnt that they were relatively welcoming of their deaths. Granted, most of that was built on the principal that they would be taken somewhere different and they would live the rest of their lives there instead, but it did work. The homunculus had gathered that humans didn't mind dying, as long as they lived good lives. Therefore, for the ruler of Xerxes to be asking for eternal life confused the small entity.

The answer to his question, though, never came. Instead, his creator scolded him.

"Watch your tongue!" He yelled, "You are in the royal presence. If you continue with this insolence, I will smash your flask."

Was he being serious? The homunculus wasn't sure. As much as he hated the glass tomb that he was in, he wasn't certain what would happen to him without it. He was being legitimately threatened and he did not like it.

"You wouldn't dare to destroy such an important source of knowledge," the homunculus bounced back, trying to talk himself up.

The guards’ collective gasps indicated that the homunculus' comment had held some weight, but he had realised his mistake. He had basically advertised to them that he had information to share. Granted, he did, but he didn't want to confess it to anyone. They probably wouldn't take it too kindly.

"That's enough chatter," the king said in his deep, aged voice. "Immortality. Tell me: is it possible, or isn't it?"

"Umm, well…" the homunculus didn't know whether to tell the truth or spare everyone the bother. However, the threat from his creator still hung with him. What length would they go to in order to achieve their goal?

The king tried again, with more power behind his voice, "Is it possible?"

"Yes," the homunculus gave in.

The humans looked amongst themselves with accompaniment and exultation.

"Excellent," the king rejoiced, "so how is it done?"

"That's actually what the problem is. The method may be a bit… unacceptable for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you will need to… well," the homunculus trailed off. He imagined the king would be opposed to the idea of immortality once he knew of how it was done, but he still feared that they may take the complications out on him.

"Tell me!" the king commanded.

The homunculus was cornered. With a sigh, he began explaining the process of immortality.

* * *

 

Hohenheim was reading through some textbooks, while the homunculus watched him in silence.

The homunculus wasn't in the mood for friendly chatting at the moment. He was thinking about the talk with the king a few days ago.

He had held back the truth from them, because he was afraid they wouldn't like the thought of killing all of the humans in the kingdom. Instead, they had accepted it with no hint of doubt and were in the process of starting the construction of the nationwide transmutation circle.

"Hohenheim," the homunculus called after a considerable time of silence.

Hohenheim seemed startled; he had probably forgot he was there.

"Yeah?"

"Do humans value the lives of others?"

Hohenheim seemed surprised at the unexpected question, but tried to answer regardless.

"Of course. I've told you this: we live for the bonds we form with friends and family members."

"… Right," the homunculus said uncertainly, before deciding to drop it.

"What are you reading?" he asked, peering at the book underneath Hohenheim.

"Oh, nothing," Hohenheim said, nonchalantly waving his hand around, "just alchemy stuff."

"What sort of alchemy stuff?"

Hohenheim looked back at the book, and then retuned his gaze at the homunculus, as though he was pondering whether to share.

"Well," he said, "I was curious to know if you could bring back the dead."

The homunculus reeled in shock. First immortality, now this. Why were the humans growing so curious all of a sudden?

"Bringing back the dead?" he questioned, "No, it doesn't work. Believe me, don't try it."

Hohenheim looked incredulous.

"I wasn't going to try it. I was just wondering."

There was a brief moment of an uncomfortable quiet, before Hohenheim asked, "How do you now it wouldn't work, anyway?"

"Hohenheim, please let it go."

"Seriously, how?"

"I don't want to bother explaining it to you. Now shut up."

"Why won't you tell me?"

"I just said."

"Homunculus," Hohenheim picked up the flask, startling the homunculus, "please. I want to know. I don't want you keeping secrets."

The physical action both surprised and scared the tiny creature. He was reminded of how he had been threatened before, and that got him talking.

"Van Hohenheim," he began, "have you ever believed in a god?"

Hohenheim seemed taken aback by the question.

"No, not really."

"Actually, there is something. The incarnation of the 'all' and the 'one'. It is 'the truth'."

Hohenheim looked down at the homunculus in clear censure. The homunculus knew why. Hohenheim wanted to know why he had never mentioned such astonishing knowledge.

Despite the disconcerting glare he was receiving, the homunculus continued.

"Well, by performing human transmutation, you can be taken through the gate and be shown the truth at a cost. The cost can vary, but if you want to bring back another life — body and soul — the cost would be too large to consider. Your own body, or at least parts of it, would be taken in equivalent exchange. Even if you did succeed in bringing something back, it still wouldn't be the same. Believe me, Van Hohenheim, you shouldn't encourage such an idea."

They stared at each other. Hohenheim's expression was still and the homunculus grew quite unpleased.

Then, Hohenheim laughed and placed the flask back down where it had been picked up from.

The homunculus assumed that Hohenheim was laughing because he didn't believe him. He was about to shout at his blood-brother's blindness, before Hohenheim spoke up first.

"Sorry for scaring you," he said, "Guess I haven't been that abrasive before."

"Scaring me?" the homunculus repeated, bewildered, "You didn't scare me."

"Oh please," Hohenheim continued to chuckle, "when I grabbed your flask, you looked absolutely horrified," he laughed.

"No I didn't," the homunculus defended himself, but Hohenheim didn't listen.

"Seriously though," Hohenheim finished laughing and instead looked down at him warmly, "I am sorry. I just wanted to know."

The homunculus sighed, "Yeah, I can understand seeking knowledge," then he formed a wide smiling mouth, "especially from someone as dumb as you."

"Hey," Hohenheim retaliated, though in a jovial way.

The two continued their banter for quite some time.


	4. Xerxes - Chapter Four

* * *

 

The market town was alive with clatter, chatter and noise.

It was becoming a regular experience for the homunculus. Up until a month ago, the homunculus was usually confined within the building that Hohenheim and his master resided. He had guessed that, considering how unnatural he would seem to regular civilians, he had been kept a secret. As it turned out, his help with the king and the lack of danger on his part had earned him enough trust to be taken outside.

The homunculus had taken that trust to his full advantage and he and Hohenheim, playing the role of his babysitter, had been taking rudimentary, aimless walks through the city.

By now, the homunculus had created a very developed mental map of the local area.

Sometimes, they'd find a spot to sit and watch the city folk live their lives. This activity was surprisingly fond for the homunculus. He enjoyed seeing how the human animal behaved in everyday situations. He had seen both ferocity and humility, avariciousness and thankfulness. The mix of emotions within the same individuals was fascinating. He was curious as to what a human's mentality was like and if it was the same to his own.

One day, as Hohenhein was carting the homunculus around on one of their popular routes, they both heard a group of humans gossiping.

"The north village was attacked?"

"I heard they all died."

"Before it was the west village."

"Why are they doing this?"

The homunculus knew too well what they were talking about. The crests of blood have started being carved. Did that mean that the transmutation circle was being completed? The homunculus wasn't sure how efficient humans were at digging, so he wasn't sure how long it would take to make one the size of Xerxes.

It was at that moment that the homunculus realised the full perspective of his actions. Not only had he ensured the death of the humans within those villages, but he had also caused the death of virtually every human in the kingdom. Granted, he knew none of them, but there was a sense of guilt spreading through his little body.

"What an awful tragedy," Hohenheim said, staring at the gossiping group.

"Yeah…" the homunculus couldn't help but agree, "real tragic."

Furthermore, Hohenheim seemed to have no idea what was going on, nor was he aware of what was going to happen. Considering Hohenheim's master was heavily involved in the plot, the homunculus would have assumed Hohenheim would have been told. Surely. He was in charge of the being that told them in the first place. Yet he seemed to treat the homicides on the villages with the disapproval and concern that everyone else around felt.

The homunculus was not looking forward to the time he actually found out.


	5. Xerxes - Chapter Five

* * *

 

The transmutation circle took much longer that the homunculus had anticipated. Although he never knew when it would be finished, nor did he have any real expectations, he was a little surprised when a few years went by. At that rate, he was impressed the king didn't keel over before it was done.

Thanks to the passing of time, the homunculus had seen its effects on Hohenheim. He had aged. It was a little disconcerting for the homunculus. It reminded him of humans' mortality.

Then again, everyone was going to die soon, it didn't really matter anyway.

They were heading for the king, to give him the news of the circles completion. He was in bed, looking quite deceased. However, once he was awoken, he managed to rise.

"This is it?" he asked the homunculus in particular, "Everything is ready?"

The homunculus answered; it was futile to try stalling this, "Yes. You may now become immortal."

They reached the centre of the circle, which happened to be the centre of the palace, and began the transmutation.

Hohenheim and the homunculus stood to the side, watching the ordeal.

Hohenheim was certainly excited.

"This is an incredible moment indeed. Wouldn’t you agree?"

He couldn't still be oblivious, could he?

"Van Hohenheim, there's something you need to know–"

Before he could elaborate, the homunculus' attention was drawn to the sound off gagging across the room.

 _Strange_ , the homunculus thought, _the only people in the room are within the circle. They should be unaffected_.

However, once he observed, he noticed one of the men choking and falling to the ground. Soon, the homunculus' creator followed suit.

"What?" The homunculus gasped, perplexed.

"I don't understand it," the king said before he too began to collapse, "you said that, if we were in the centre of the circle, we wouldn't be harmed."

He was right; the homunculus had said that. He was just as confused. Were the measurements off? Maybe this wasn't the real centre.

The homunculus was beginning to panic.

"I was right. This shouldn't be happening," he tried to defend himself to the dead ruler.

"What's going on here?" The homunculus asked, looking at the black tendrils and the blue and red light.

The deep, slow chuckle from above the homunculus awakened him from his hysteria.

Was… was Hohenheim laughing about this.

Turning, the homunculus yelled to the man, "What is there to laugh at? Don't you realise what's going on?"

The dark, contorted look on Hohenheim's face proved that he did.

"You…" the homunculus shakily began, "you knew this would happen, didn't you?"

Hohenheim's laugh grew louder, "I suppose there's no point in faking innocence anymore."

The homunculus' eye widened, "How did you do this? What have you done?"

Hohenheim looked down at the creature, wearing a face of pure pride and joy.

"The true centre of the circle is right here where I'm standing," Hohenheim said, stamping his foot to the floor for emphasis.

"It is?" The homunculus asked, dumbfounded. How had Hohenheim tampered with the experiment? How did he even know how?

Hohenheim saw his shell-shocked expression, and added flatly, "What, did you really think not one person told me about what was actually going on?"

The homunculus sounded absolutely defeated, "H-how did you-"

"How did I do it?" Hohenheim asked for him, "Surely you'd know. I used my own blood to open the gateway."

He brought the flask inches away from his face, before adding, "Thanks for telling me about that, by the way."

The surrounding noise became louder: the tendrils more menacing: the lights threatening. However, to the two creatures staring at each other, the air around them seemed dead and quiet as the king and his subordinates.

Hohenheim held his head up with grandeur, "Well, dwarf in the flask, right now, you and I at at the centre of everything."

The doorway to the truth was opened. The eye that the homunculus was well aware of opened and stared up at then, before rising and swallowing them both.

Everything was white.

The tendrils laced around them both.

Hohenheim was being torn apart.

The flask broke.

They both were gone.


	6. Xerxes - Chapter Six

* * *

Everything felt wrong. Feeling was wrong. He couldn't feel. Well, he never had the opportunity to, but that was beside the point.

He could feel something cold and rough below him. He thought it was below him. He never had a real sense of balance before, either.

He could smell a tangy sweetness. Was that air? It would make sense; his flask did break.

His flask broke.

The homunculus' memories of the experience last night came back to him.

His eyes shot open. He was staring at the ceiling.

Eyes? He realised that detail later than he perhaps should. He was in some sort of receptacle of some kind. That would explain the onslaught of new sensations.

He wondered, if he… yes, he could move.

He raised an arm into his view. It looked like Hohenheim's hand.

Hohenheim.

Where was he?

He managed to rise to his feet. The room they were in last night almost looked peaceful.

He spied his broken flask next to his feet. The king and his creator were across the room, where they had been before. The homunculus didn't bother checking; he knew they were dead.

With nothing else to do, the homunculus began searching for Hohenheim.

Walking was a strange experience to him; he was feeling every new muscle work, and every particle of dust that hit his skin.

He saw dozens of dead bodies littering the ground. He walked by each one, pondering what their last thoughts were. He doubted they were pleasant ones.

He made it outside. The cool morning air hit his face and there was a scent of water and sand in the air.

He was free. Free from the flask. This should have been the greatest day of his life. Instead, he felt hollow, sick and abnormal.

He stared at the city. The dead were everywhere.

"All their soul have been…"

"There you are"

Turning in surprise, the homunculus was blinded by the morning sun. He could just barely make out the silhouette of a man.

However, he knew fully well who it was.

"Hohenheim!"

"Tell me," he said, an innocent curiosity in his tone, "that new body of yours, how's it feeling?"

"Wait, so you did this?" the homunculus asked.

He had just noticed his voice. It sounded the same as before, but deeper.

"Yes I did," Hohenheim answered, "I guess, since my blood was used to create you, you've taken my likeness. Nice. Now you can finally walk on your own two legs. You're welcome."

"Hohenheim… Don't you realise what you've done? Everyone's souls have been taken from them."

Hohenheim either didn't listen or ignored him.

"You've given me a name. You've given me knowledge. In return, I've got you out of that flask and given you a new body, which will live forever."

"We're immortal?" the homunculus questioned.

He concentrated his attention with himself. He could feel them. He could hear them. The indistinguishable calling of all the people that lost their lives.

The homunculus sank to his knees. Staring at Hohenheim with a new expression of sadness.

"But… what about what you said," his face began to contort in anger before he shouted, "You said that humans live for the bonds you form. Your friends are gone. What about that family you wanted."

Hohenheim shrugged, "I'm sure some humans are still around. I've got an eternity to look."

The homunculus trailed off and looked at his new hands. His hands. Hohenheim's hands. That liar's hands.

The homunculus had created a monster.

Hohenheim added, "I'm very lucky to have met you, homunculus in the flask," before walking back where he had come.

He felt glands behind his eyes release fluid, as his mind was clouded by new emotions.

He threw his head up at the sky and shrieked, desperate to rid himself of it all.

It didn't help.


	7. Xerxes - Addendum

* * *

Heat was slowly starting to become one of the homunculus’ pet hates. As he trod along the sand dunes, with simmering amber sand below his feet and a scorching sun overhead, he was becoming a little tired of the high temperature and was also becoming a bit resentful of it. Before, whenever he had basked in the sunlight in his flask, he found it pleasant. Temperature was one of the only things that he had frequently felt, after all. But, back then, he always had to be taken inside again. It was a bother for him then, but now he understood that spending hours upon hours in the sun was unpleasantly stifling.

The passing wind helped a bit, but the sand that was being dragged along with it was not as good. He was lucky that his robe… garments… (he was not entirely aware of human terminology) shielded himself from most of the tiny projectiles, but that did also cover himself from the cooling winds.

With these complaints in his mind, he was beginning to wonder why he did not choose to return to the city. Heck, he was not really sure why he had left the city. He would have been safe from the sun in the many buildings, as well as the sand. Yet, with the dead speckled across the city and all of the villages in the country, he could not bring himself to stay. The souls within him were terrorising him: telling him what a monster he was, pleads and cries for help, and demanding him to leave. Leave where? The souls were not specific. He had just begun running from the scene of the sin. Plus, he wanted to be away from Hohenheim. He was not sure where Hohenheim had scarpered off to; he left as soon as he could and had no desire to confront the immortal human further. He likely was not making the most logical choices, considering the situation it placed him in.

All the time, since his confrontation with Hohenheim till that moment, the homunculus had acted out of emotion. They were a new thing for him. Of course, since the moment he was born, he was able to joke, show fear or contempt, but he had never really felt them like he was now. Before, he would emulate emotions for a means to an end. Now, they were a nuisance.

For the first time in his short life, he missed the life he had within the flask. It was cramped. He was small. Every human either did not notice him or scorned him as a creature below them. However, he had a guiltless existence, a comfortable lifestyle, and the chance to learn all he could about humans.

* * *

 

After days… weeks? Whatever; it could have been years for all he knew. After a long time wandering through the desert, he saw something across the bleary terrain. The hot air distorted them, but the homunculus could make out their familiar figures. Humans. There were humans. There were still humans.

The homunculus could feel a mix of emotions. The most elaborate ones were happiness and sadness, though he did not think it was appropriate to call it such. He weakly made his way towards them, as did they to him.

The humans in question were different than the ones that the homunculus had known in Xerxes. While their hair and eyes were a gold that matched the environment around them, these ones’ hair was a black colour. It reminded the homunculus of his old form. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He was honestly shocked at the physical differences; he hadn’t known that humans could actually look different. Why had they all had golden hair in Xerxes, but these humans have black? They were humans, weren’t they? Their attire was also dissimilar to what he usually expected. There was also a camel with them.

They were speaking to him, then spoke to each other worryingly. The homunculus thought that they might have been speaking in a different language, but he was not really concentrating. His emotional state was haywire; he felt happiness about knowing that he hadn’t destroyed all human kind, but his body reacted as if it was in a state of sorrow.

He gave distant answers. The humans, assuming he was delirious, assisted him. They gave him rations of their water and placed them atop the back of the camel.

Years later, the homunculus reminisced about this moment. If he remembered correctly, they were a caravan from a place called Xing. He left them in a country called Ishval, without giving them any words about who he was or what he was doing. He didn’t even say goodbye; as soon as their focus on him was dropped, he rose to his feet and walked away like he had from Xerxes. His mind was very muddled back then.

The thing he specifically remembered about that encounter was how these strangers, which the homunculus still did not know anything about besides their appearances, had chosen to take kindness on him and give them their resources for him. The quintessential quality within humans: humility and selflessness, doing things for the sake of the collective instead of for oneself. It had always been a concept that had eluded him when he was in the flask, especially when he witnessed the opposite feature in humans plenty during that time. The king was one; he was willing to sacrifice his entire country for an eternal life. The civilians were another; the homunculus had saw many thieves during that time. He supposed no human could really be completely selfless.

He just wished, after all the years that had passed, he had thanked them for their actions. Things might have happened very differently, had they not done what they had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That is the end of the Xerxes plot. The actual plot may be next. I am not entirely sure why I chose to do the backstory first. I just found it a really interesting part of the series and wanted to write the story of Xerxes from the homunculus' point of view, instead of Hohenheim's.


	8. Resembool - Chapter One

Resembool – Chapter One

* * *

 

On a night like any other, two tiny figures slept soundly. To say that the sight was adorable would have been an understatement. The two were rhythmically breathing softly, which the figure above them was subconsciously enraptured by.

The old homunculus was in a crouched position, watching his beautiful creations. If he ever showed emotions, he was sure that he would be crying. Not crying out of sadness, yet not crying out of joy. After all his years of living, he still had difficulty identifying his emotional state. However, he felt like he should be crying right now.

* * *

Having a family was not something that the homunculus had actually desired, at first. Heck, he had no clear objective at the start; he was unable to die, so finding food or drink was a pointless effort. He had nowhere and no one to turn to, so finding a place to stay would also have been too hard to even try. He had tried to make connections with humans, thanks to the apparent human body he was in, but that proved harder than he first imagined: one, there was a language barrier that took decades of slow work to overcome; two, beyond the one or two conversations he’d have when he was in the flask, which usually never ended with the humans very happy, the homunculus realised that he had absolutely no experience at talking to people. The failed attempts at first conversations were numerous. Eventually, he decided to stop trying and to instead just observe. He learned certain facial expressions, body language and tones that humans use when communicating.

The homunculus enjoyed those moments the most: the moments when he learned something new. He craved new and fresh knowledge, which is why he never usually stayed in one place for long. The early part of his life was just that: he would enter into a town or a village (anywhere, really), find a place where the most humans congregated (typically taverns, town squares, or a festival should there be a holiday of some kind), settle down in a spot that he would not be disturbed, and looked at them mill about, drink, sometimes fight, laugh, then he would leave without a single soul knowing who he was. That was his life, and he was content with that.

Also, as he travelled across from place to place, he would also study the world around him. As it turned out, the entire world was not a desert, nor did every human look alike. There was a massive amount of diversity, which the homunculus was all too eager to explore. He honestly never made favourites, as whatever was culturally, scientifically, or socially enriching for him was good in his perspective.

He had been in a certain tavern for a while, one random night. It was getting late and the humans had either left or were too drunk to move themselves. The homunculus was bored of this place anyway. The place name was Resembool, which he had initially overheard earlier during the day by a pair of humans chatting. He should not have even bothered stopping by at this place. There was no history to speak of and the humans were the same as any other rural town he had been to. He concluded that he would leave the town for good when he left the tavern.

As he left the establishment, he examined the night. The air was humid, which meant that it was around the summertime.

“Hey there, Sir. Would you be interested in buying any flowers, this evening?” he heard a female say off to his right as he walked down a street.

“Sir, are you all right?” came the same voice again. The homunculus stopped and looked where the call had come from. There was a young woman of a vaguely stout frame staring at him. Her expression was concerned, if the homunculus’ studies were accurate.

After looking around and realising that they were the only two in the street, he spoke up, “You’re talking to me?”

The woman’s face was deep with confusion at that. It made the homunculus uncomfortable, thinking that he had offended another human so easily.

“Of course I’m talking to you. Sir, you don’t look well,” she said, placing the bouquet of flowers she was holding with the others and made her way over.

The homunculus didn’t know what to make of that. He could not die, he was sure of that, so how can he not look well.

Once the woman reached him, their height difference was noticed by the both of them instantly. The homunculus was easily a head or two taller than her, and she had to crane her neck to look at his face.

“How much have you had to drink, Sir?” she asked.

“I don’t drink,” the homunculus answered absolutely honestly. There was not one moment where he had to drink; he was immortal, after all.

“Really‽” she questioned, her eyebrows furrowing. Was that anger, or deeper confusion? The homunculus could not tell, at the time.

She looked at him up and down “Sir, have you got a place to stay for the night?” she asked.

The homunculus was becoming perturbed by the human’s questions. He had not been in a conversation with a human that lasted this long in years. Why was she talking to him? Why would she care how he looked or where he will be? It was not her business.

Regardless, he answered the question honestly and plainly, “No.”

A determined look crossed the young woman’s face.

“Would you like to spend the night at my place?” she asked, looking up at him with a warm smile.

“Not particularly,” the homunculus answered, still keeping his face clean of emotion.

_That’s it_ , the homunculus thought, _this human is asking me for sex_. He had seen that trick done so many times before at the human meet-ups. He was actually a little ashamed with himself that he had not caught onto it sooner.

The woman seemed saddened by the straightforward rejection she received, but she did continue to sell the idea.

“Are you sure? It’s warm and comfortable: much better than sleeping out in the streets. Also, I could make you soup, if you’d like?”

That was not what the other pleading females offered… What was she even asking for, at this point.

“You are asking for sex, aren’t you,” He asked matter-of-factly, getting straight to the point.

The woman suddenly burst out laughing, surprising the homunculus and making him take a small step back.

“Oh-hoh, sorry n-no,” she managed to sputter before giggling again, “n-no wonder you were so confused.”

The homunculus was just thinking he might move on, before the woman spoke up again, “I didn’t mean that. I just thought I’d do a good deed for a man who needs it.”

The homunculus could tell she was being prideful by her tone alone.

“What makes you think I need a good deed?” The homunculus challenged, starting to warm into the conversation a bit more. He had nowhere to go, anyway.

“You’re homeless, right?” She said, tilting her head slightly.

Homeless. Without a home. Yes, that was a fitting description of him, at that moment.

“You could say that,” he offered, before frowning and asking, “why should that matter to you?”

The human had turned and made her way back to her flower cart.

“The kindness of my heart, I suppose,” she said, as she dismantled her cart, “besides, the house is simply too big for just little ol’ me. I’m starting to get lonely, being all alone.”

The homunculus watched the human work. She clearly did that many times, considering her speed and competency in it.

The homunculus really did not wish to stay in this place any longer than he had to, but this human was basically offering him an opportunity to study her. He had been growing bored with studying humans in large gatherings, anyway. He figured the next step up would be to examine humans when they are alone, in a homely setting.

“I will go with you. It proves to be interesting,” the homunculus said to the woman, who was looking at him a perplexed look.

“…Alright,” She said, getting to one end of her cart and pushing it up the street. The homunculus slowly began following her.

“The name’s Holly, by the way,” she says, turning to him.

“Is it?” the homunculus returns disinterestedly.

She didn’t try again. She just continued pushing the cart up the street, with the peculiar man slowly walking beside her. He did not offer any assistance, or even try to make conversation. He was a strange case.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That might have been a while between instalments, if anyone was actually waiting. I am apologetic, I can assure you. If you require an explanation, it would be the simple ‘I’ve been busy with life’.
> 
> Regardless, I am actually pleased by this; I was struggling to come up with a way to write the transition from Xerxes segment to the pre-plot segment. This is a good way, I think.
> 
> Also, in case you are confused, this lady is meant to be the florist from  
> Episode 37: The First Homunculus.  
> I decided to name her Holly, because she did not seem to have a name established, Holly sounds like a flower name, and I think it suits her design rather well.  
> She plays the role of Pinako, in the story.


	9. Resembool - Chapter Two

* * *

 As silently as he could, as to not disturb the slumbering children, the homunculus sighed and shifted his position slightly. He rarely ever cared about discomfort, but he had been squatting there for a while. He desired to just sit down next to the two, but that did seem unrealistic.

“They’re fast asleep, y’know. You can probably get away with petting them.”

The homunculus turned his head slowly to the source of the voice. It surprisingly spooked him a little. She was always so quiet, which was a real achievement coming from him.

* * *

The homunculus had started experiencing fidgets. He had never been in one place long enough to get that tiresome, so he had never had them before. They were mainly concentrated in his legs, whenever he sat. Honestly, it was rather exciting for him.

He had been at Holly’s home for a few days now. She was very welcoming. Too welcoming, for the homunculus. He had never had anyone treat him this well before. Anyone except that certain human… Well, that’s why her homeliness made him uneasy.

As soon as they arrived, Holly was quick to begin the soup that she had promised and gave the command “make yourself comfortable.” The homunculus barely even had a concept of comfort.

Instead, he just remained where his host had left him, as she left to prepare her _beloved_ soup. The homunculus wondered if she would be offended if he did not accept her soup. He had learnt that some humans do not take rejection well. He also pondered if he should care about whether she becomes upset or not. She would probably make him leave, if he insults her, so he may need to be careful. He figured he might as well learn from the experience, now that it had gifted itself to him.

Conducting an investigation, he began scanning through the room he was in. It was a hall or a foyer, if he had to guess; he had never really been in residential houses before now. There were trinkets around the room, hanging on walls and on shelves. They were uninteresting things. He made to move on.

He could here Holly working in the kitchen as he entered what looked like a lounge. A table took up some of the floor space, so maybe it acted as a dining room as well. There were some portraits on the wall, some showing a family, others were of individuals of that family. Curiously, Holly was not in any of them. There was a male: short but clearly well built, with a large beard. There was a female beside him: tall, slim, with a look of sourness on her face, ultimately unremarkable. There were two females that seemed to be developing from children into adults: they looked very similar, they were large, they looked incredibly strong, overall nothing of particular note beyond that. Lastly, there was a baby within the mother’s arms: tiny, a pink bundle it was in signified that it was a female as well. They were all subpar. The homunculus doubted that he would remember them.

His eyes wandered lazily around, but a certain discovery caused him to stop. The lounge was connected to the kitchen by a hole in the wall. However, within the kitchen, there was a moderately large mirror hanging on the wall.

The homunculus shifted himself over to it, staring into the glass as if entranced. The person staring back at him caught him off guard. The fact that he looked like… _him_ was not the surprise: it was how different he looked.

His face and eyes were tired, with a sort of haze that comes over a person’s features when they are deep in thought. Wrinkles were apparent, which he was sure he would not have had before. Next, but certainly not the least shocking, was the hair. It had somehow lost the golden colour and seemed whiter. Not entirely white, but it was unmistakably less vibrant.

Looking down, he also acknowledged his attire. He had never concerned himself before about his clothing, and that certainly showed. He looked at the ill-fitting white shirt and the battered trousers. He could not even remember where he had got them from. He must have stolen them, but that was a guess; he certainly had not bought them. He tried to see if there was any remnant of his robes. He could not see anything. The sandals he used to wear had worn out so long ago, yet only now that he looked at his reflection did he realise that he had not replaced them. He was barefoot. He had been walking across the country barefoot this entire time, and he did not notice. Heck, nobody else noticed. How had he managed to be, for the most part, undisturbed this whole time? No wonder Holly had thought he was homeless. The site of himself really stabbed the homunculus’ pride.

He frowned. It caused more wrinkles. He looked old. He was old. He was hideous.

“Soup’s ready,” Holly called with an obliviously chirpy nature.

The homunculus was juxtaposed; his face was sour and he was feeling a deep depression. “Is soup the only thing you think about?” he stated glumly as he made his way to the table.

She chuckled and put a bowl down to wear he chose to sit.

“Perhaps you’re right. I should talk about something else. How about you tell me about yourself,” she suggested, as she sat herself down and leaned closer to him.

 The homunculus stared at her sternly, “So you want information, is it? I shouldn’t be too surprised. I do probably seem strange to you.”

“Oh no, I don’t think that,” she defended herself, looking off to the side in mild embarrassment.

“There’s no need to hide it. I know I am different,” he said, taking his eyes off her, as he looked down into the soup. The steam rose up and heated his neck and chin. The smell was appealing, yet it was too overstimulating for him right now and was making him feel nauseated.

He could see the face of a vile lying human staring back up at him.

“It is best you don’t know. You’d probably be upset or something… or maybe you’d hate me… or both.”

Holly was confused as well as concerned. The _strange case_ she had invited seemed far more mysterious now, after that. She tried to coax for more, “I think talking about your troubles is a good way to feel better.”

“Really?” the homunculus asked. Was that true? That could be an interesting hypothesis to test. He certainly did not feel good right now.

“Of course,” she exclaimed, picking up her spoon and pointing it at him and then herself, “you and I should go drinking some time. That helps, too.”

The homunculus pondered through that information. It turned out there was much to learn that he had yet to. Perhaps he should stay here a bit longer to experience that drinki–

Wait.

“I’ve never drank before,” he stated again. How would his body react to it. He had also been served soup. He had never eaten either. He started to have second thoughts.

“There’s a first time for everything,” she said as she started eating her soup.

Perhaps she’s right. He has been observing for far too long. It was time he started to try things. A new determination came over him.

He grabbed the bowl of soup, lifted it up over his head and tilted the contents into his wide gullet.

The preceding events were a little foggy to him, despite the searing pain he went through. He actually smiled as he reminisced about that day. His first time eating. What a fiasco. She should have warned him that soup was hot.


	10. Resembool - Chapter Three

* * *

 

The homunculus looked at the woman leaning on the door frame. She was almost entirely silhouetted, thanks to the brightly lit corridor back lighting her. The homunculus noted that her fringe was casting a shadow over her eyes again. That happened a lot, unless the lighting was just right.

He looked back at their sons. They seemed so peaceful. So perfect, at least to his standards of perfection.

“They’re too pure,” he said as he stared between them and his hand, “it would be a disgrace if I touched them.”

The woman behind him gave a small laugh, “If that’s the case, surely I’d have been tainted a long time ago.”

“Yes,” he said coldly, gaining a hard look from her. She knew he did not mean to offend her, so she let that one go, for now.

“You seem solemn,” she said, with genuine concern in her voice, “and considering how you are in general, that is saying a lot.”

The homunculus continued to stare at his sons. Young. Yet aging. Aging fast. It had been a miracle to have them at all, he did not want to lose them thanks to his stupid immortality. He ran his hand down his head and rubbed his teary eyes.

* * *

Imposing himself was not something that the homunculus worried about, during his stay with Holly; she had invited him over, so he thought it was only her fault, if she ended up not liking him. However, he turned out to be a rather acceptable and exemplary guest. That stunned him at first; when he was a mere dwarf in a flask, the people of Xerxes were never particularly thrilled whenever he was around. He was sure that even his sheer existence was libellous to them, whether it was due to the “witchery” that was used to create him, or just his attitude and appearance in general. To actually have someone not only content with him being near them, but enjoying his company – despite the lack of effort he used to interact – without expecting anything in return or without having any ulterior motives, was such a rarity to him that he had once thought it to be inconceivable.

The homunculus, after a week or so, had attributed it to his quietness. The centuries of not talking to anyone and simply sitting and taking in the world around him had obviously given him some skills at being patient, as well as tight-lipped. When he was young, he would often get bored about being in the same small studies or labs, which is why he liked those walks around the city so much.

He smiled faintly as he thought back. He hadn’t changed too much; he still liked exploring the world and studying the humans.

“Well look at that. He does have emotions,” said Holly faintly, as she walked across the room. She was wearing a plain jacket to go over her also-plain clothes.

The homunculus looked up at her. She must have noticed his smile.

“Are you going somewhere?” he contributed. He had surmised from the jacket that she was going out.

“As a matter of fact, I’m going to go drinking,” she said, “you’re welcome to come along, if you’d like.”

The homunculus sighed internally. She often attempted to get him out of the house. It be ‘come with me to the market’ or ‘do you want to help me with my flowers’ or ‘you want a walk’. The offers weren’t bad ones and he’d be lying, if he said she was annoying him, but the nag-like requests immediately made him want to do nothing but sit down and do nothing.

“I have already been in that tavern,” he said, figuring that was an excuse, “it’s not worth repeated visits.”

“I thought you said you didn’t drink,” she asked, confusion on her face.

“That was correct,” he stated flatly, “I was just watching.”

“Watching what?” she asked; the questioning look on her face growing more into morbidly curious.

“You know what: don’t tell me,” she waved it off and left the room.

The homunculus sighed again, staring off in any direction blankly again. Should he have turned down that offer, he thought to himself. Of course; he could not learn anything more from it, considering all the times he had seen that exact thing. Yet, the decision did not feel right to him.

Eventually, he was done pondering and decided to take a risk. So what, anyway. He had nothing to lose and no expectations to keep up. He can waste a bit of time.

He joined Holly. She was more than delighted at his change-of-heart. She would not stop talking for most of the trip. She mentioned some iconic stories that she had, as well as the friends she had and some advice. He wasn’t exactly listening to it. It was all unnecessary ramble to him.

She did that a lot: chat, talk. She was very good at telling stories or discussing gossip that he did not care about. It was a stark difference from himself, for sure.

Within the first few days of knowing each other, it was already like he knew her entire life story. According to her, she was part of a family of staff and servers to a more wealthy and successful family. She held this trivia quite high standing. She was given the role to reside within one of the family’s country homes: the one the homunculus had been living under. That would explain why it seemed better than the other accommodations in the area, as well as how Holly (a flower seller) had come to live there. Her job was to project it from squatters or bad incidents, but she also sold flowers as a side-job. Flowers were a particular passion of hers.

In comparison, the homunculus was a big question mark. He hadn’t bothered telling her about his past; there was no point and he’d rather not go through that emotional ordeal. All she did know was his name…

Oh, that also deserves explaining.

* * *

_Placing the empty bowl of soup down onto the table, the homunculus took quick breaths. He had suffered pain, of course, but that was too surprising._

_“Are you alright‽” Holly asked. It looked like she wanted to help, but she wasn’t sure if it was needed. She remained torn._

_After some time, he assured that he did not need assistance. He had appeared to have burned the inside of his throat and mouth. It had a stinging feeling. He placed one of his hands to his neck and used alchemy to repair himself. It was quick and didn’t require much thinking. He had done it before with broken legs or twisted ankles due to some miscalculated jumps, or sunburns. The human body did have perks over his old form._

_Taking a step back at the red sparks, Holly took a second to recompose herself._

_“An alchemist‽” she exclaimed, “I wouldn’t have guessed.”_

_The homunculus sniffed in disinterest. He was not really enjoying his time so far._

_Holly kept talking, “I thought you needed a circle for that,” she but a hand to her chin in thought as she trailed off, “unless that’s something she hasn’t found out yet.”_

_The rest of the night was a drag. They sat down and conversed. That, in itself, wasn’t displeasing to the homunculus. However, it became clear that what he considered interesting and what she considered interesting were entirely different things. She was one heck of a rambler. For the most part, he just sat there, with his head being supported by his arm, and nodding occasionally to show his attentiveness, even though he wasn’t really that invested._

_“Well anyway, that about sums up everything about me,” she leaned back in her chair. That took forever, the homunculus thought. At least it was over._

_“So tell me about yourself,” she added._

_Perking up, the homunculus looked at the stout woman looking at her expectantly. He was not sure why she should have any reason to care for his information. Then again, he did not care for her life, yet that did not stop her. What could he even say; he had nothing he was willing to share?_

_“What?” he said dumbly. He wanted to say something more cutting, but the surprise must have stunted that._

_“Well, I don’t even know your name. Let’s start there,” she suggested._

_A name. He had no name. He never gave himself a name. No one had ever asked for a name from him before. Why hadn’t he suspected this would happen sooner; he wasn’t an inhuman ball of truth-knows-what anymore: he was a human now. Well, in a human body, but that was besides the point. Humans were meant to have names._

_“I… I-uh… Uh…”_

_That must have been the first time in centuries he was truly discomposed. Could he have got away with saying he had no name. No, that would have bewildered the human and would have created more questions than it answered. He had to think of a name, before she became suspicious. He pondered using the name that he had tried so hard to forget. Then, he remembered another suggestion that he had come up with._

_With a look of pride and determination, the homunculus held his head high and proclaimed,_

_“Theo! Theophrastus Bombastus!”_

* * *

Having a name was strange to the homunculus, but it certainly was not unwelcomed. It was like he had this sense of identity that he was lacking before. It reminded him of when he was ‘the dwarf in the flask’. That was essentially his identity back then, before that was compromised. It made him realise just how hollow he had been feeling for so long, like he was one of the souls that gave him this eternal life in the first place: a once-alive being losing its individuality within the whirling tempest. No wonder why humans gave themselves these things.

Holly and the newly-named homunculus got to the tavern. It was just as the homunculus had previously seen it, ignoring the humans. However, despite Holly’s constant mentioning, the friends that were waiting for her caught him off-guard. Most of them were male, youngish and large. They were a bit perplexed by his presence, and gave Holly a few sly remarks about her new mysterious consort. She bashfully waved the remarks off, just saying they were friends. He was introduced to them all: he suddenly got very excited when his new name was used. The men did not attempt to hide their amusement at the ridiculous name, especially when it was attached to a such a stone-faced gentleman. The homunculus had no idea what was so strange about it, at the time, but he did not care enough to ask.

Eventually he joined them at the table. There were some attempts at conversation, many of them were fruitless. It was only when the first round of drinks came when things began to turn around.

The homunculus remembered staring at his serving, which would be paid for by Holly, with a certain level of unsureness. He took a few deep breaths to calm and prepare himself, rose the cup like he had that bowl of soup, closed his windpipe, and let the entirety of the content rush down his gullet, catching the attentions of the others.

They were all staring wide-eyed at him, as he placed the cup back down.

“What?” he asked.

The following events were not so easy to remember. Alcohol apparently did that. According to what he learnt later on, one should try to ‘pace themselves’ when drinking it too.

A few parts stuck out to him.

* * *

“H-how could I have let him do that to me? He was my b-blood brother: I thou-ought I could trust hi– _hic_ him,” He wailed, violently sobbing and laying his head on the sticky bar.

Alcohol also lessened one’s inhibitions. Being drunk, all his mental walls had been shattered.

It happened in stages: he began to get a whole lot chirpier and like his old self in the flask; next, he began becoming cocky and brash, as well as absurdly truthful, where he would freely show off his skills in alchemy and talk about his journeys around the country; then his mind began reliving his most pained memory, which then was followed with emotional gushing.

“Umm… It’s all fine, Theo, don’t worry about it,” Holly said, sitting next to him at the bar. He had apparently moved there because the table where they were was getting too loud. All of her other friends were elsewhere, indulging, leaving just them. To say she had no idea what to do would be a great disservice to her. She had never seen someone this drunk after only an hour into the night.

“This really is your first-time drinking, isn’t it,” she mused breathlessly, not actually wanting her to hear. He wasn’t listening to her, anyway.

“I wanted to unders-stand this worlds knowledge. But at what cost. It’s like some cruel irony… if you think about it?” He continued, being needlessly chatty for the first time in forever.

“Theo,” Holly said soothingly and rubbed him back, “I’m going to warn you: I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

The homunculus got up from the bar, and looked back at her with unfocused eyes.

“It’s simple: I was a bit of black… _stuff_ in a flask. I called the human that gave me blood Hohenheim, because he was a slave, right… Then the king wanted immortality and thought I’d know. I did. Hohenheim betrayed me and everyone died. The end!” he slurred out, occasionally rocking around in his seat.

Holly still seemed unclear and now seemed concerned as well.

“Hey. Is everything alright over here?” Another woman asked from behind the homunculus.

Holly responded friendly, implying the two knew each other, “Oh, no thanks Da–”

“Hello there,” the homunculus dimwittedly shoved his hand forward to the new addition, “I’m Theophrastus Bombantus, but my friends call me Dwarf in the Flask.”

He fell off him stool and onto the ground, losing the ability and the will to move.

The woman above opined, “Oh dear, it seems someone’s had a few too many.”

“I agree. Do you mind helping me out,” Holly requested, grabbing the homunculus’ right arm and slinging it around herself.

“Sure!” she exclaimed, grabbing his left, “Come on, big guy. Let’s get you home.”

Stray tears were still leaking from his blood-shot eyes, and he kept this hundred-yard stare.

“Home?” he repeated with a small hint of distain. He slurred mindlessly, “there was never a home for me to go back to. He took that from me.”

* * *

Waking up, the homunculus became aware of two things: this was the first time he had ever slept in a bed; the pain in his head was unforgivingly painful.

The memories of the previous night were speckled in his mind, but he was too distracted to care about piecing them together.

He got up and moved made his way to the kitchen. He wasn’t sure why. It was probably instinct, he probably needed to eat something to feel better.

He tried his best to behave as he usually did, but the headache made it difficult to keep a pained look hidden.

As he entered the kitchen, he instantly was made aware of the woman from the previous night. He only remembered her vaguely, but he never had the opportunity to actually examine her appearance properly. She had a dark hair colour that reminded him of a crow. Her hair was wavy on both sides, and she maintained a perfect fringe that cast a shadow over her eyes. Speaking of such, her eyes were a bland mix of purple and red, resulting in possibly a hazel or grey: it was hard to make out in the darkness of the early morning, along with the shade the eyes had with the fringe. Her figure was most unlike Holly’s: Holly was short and stout, wereas this woman was slender and dainty. Her skin also seemed smooth and translucent, as well as pale. Her clothing was uninspired: a dark-green cardigan to go over a black top.

“Oh. You’re awake. Good,” she opined with a smile, before she wore a more devilish expression, “How’s your head?”

As if on cue, his head began to throb painfully. Raising a hand up to his temple, he replied annoyed, “In pain.”

She snickered at that. “I can make you some coffee, if you want. It’ll help.”

He sat on the closest chair and rested his burning head onto his fist. “Do,” he replied again. He was not in the right mind to speak, at that moment.

Listening to the woman work, he began dozing. He did not know why she was in the house, but he was in no authority to enforce her to leave, so he let her be.

She handed him a cup of coffee. Yet another thing he was given to drink. Based on experience, the homunculus predicted that this too will end in tears. The woman sat next to him and stared at him for a few seconds.

“I saw what you did, last night. That alchemy,” she said, blushing faintly.

He had done alchemy. He could not remember what he did, but he remembered the crowds reactions. A collection of ‘ _oo’s’_ and ‘ _woah’s’_. He remembered feeling relatively ballsy that night.

She carried on, looking at him with wonder, “you did it without a transmutation circle. Nor did you apply equivalent exchange.”

The homunculus was unsure of what to say. No one had ever looked at him like that before. He settled for, “You certainly know a bit about alchemy.”

She gave an excited outcry, “I have been studying alchemy since I was a kid. I’ve always wanted to be an alchemist.”

She then looked at the ground to hide a growing blush, “But, there aren’t any alchemists in Resembool to teach me.”

“I see,” the homunculus offered as he listened, “you have lived here all of your life, then?” He actually asked her a question in full seriousness.

“No,” she replied, looking back up to give a sheepish smile (clearly because the avenue of discussion she was leading them toward was suddenly shifted), “I’m originally from Dublith, but I moved here a few years back due to…” she coughed slightly and put little emphasis on the last words, “family problems.”

The homunculus drank his coffee (slowly, this time), as he listened. She looked back at him again and stammered, “Anyway, are you staying in Resembool long?”

Considering the question, the homunculus answered truthfully, “I had intended to leave a while back, yet now things are happening that are forcing me to stay.”

The woman looked at the floor again, a shamed look on her face.

“What is your name?” The homunculus asked. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cared enough to ask a human for their name. He was just detecting a strange aura about her.

“Dante,” she answered, putting her hand forward for him to shake, “and yours?”

The homunculus took her hand, “Theophrastus Bombastus” he reuttered with internal joy.

Dante stopped for a second, her expression flummoxed. Then, she jolted upward and broke into a series of womanly chortles.

After a few seconds, she came to, “Oh, sorry. I thought you only said that last time because you were drunk,” she said between further giggling, “Oh, _Theophrastus BOMBASTUS_. Very _grandiose_ , and exciting.”

“Does my name sound funny to you?” the homunculus asked defensively. He shouldn’t, but he took her remarks as personal attacks at his creative ability.

The tone of voice that he carried not only stopped her laughing, but seemingly scared her as well. She gave a small “sorry” before shifting around in her seat. She had clearly become uneasy. He was not that sad for her though.

After a few more minutes of talking, they had forgot all about it. They ended up talking long into the morning. Then they met after that, then again and again. Soon, she asked if he would help teach her all he knew about alchemy. He was sceptical of it at first, knowing that some humans can do dangerous things with too much power, but her pleading purple-red eyes and her desperation to learn ultimately made him accept. Soon, she was the person the homunculus saw most, enjoyed seeing, and overly trusted above all others. He had allowed some secrets to spill over their time together, like the concepts of philosopher’s stones, how he knew about them, the fact he was immortal and eventually how he ended up like that. She was always questioning, which was good, but was never mean-spirited toward him or what he said, or how he acted. She was easily becoming the homunculus’ favourite human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of how Father and Dante met. Eh.  
> It was difficult, I had a general idea of what would happen, but I don't go into great detail planning, so the delivery may be awkward.  
> Still, I'm using the description based around Dante's original form in the flashback segment in the 2003 anime. I will just say now, I have never seen the 2003 anime, so my representation of Dante may not be exactly what it should. But, screw it, it's a role swap AU, she can be as good as gold.  
> If you haven't guessed, Dante plays the role of Trisha.  
> Also, naming the homunculus Theo, after the initial suggestion he made when naming Hohenheim, was a good way to stop him being known as only 'the homunculus', or 'Father', by other characters. It was a risk, but also has a good comedic potential, so I'm keeping it.


	11. Resembool - Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Switching between two time periods, the homunculus reminisces about his… awkward proposition to Dante.

* * *

 

"Father!" a familiar and sweet, high-pitched voice reached up to a certain individual's ears.  
With a scratch of the beard, the homunculus — who was identifying himself as 'Theo' (but more commonly nowadays, as 'Father') — stood up from where he had been sitting by his desk; he decided to follow the call and see what required his presence. He never deliberately avoided people, but it was an observation, made by many guests and neighbours, that he would keep to himself, or gradually leave a group, if he didn't feel he was needed or just not interested. Admittedly, he could try a bit harder to be friendly, but the centuries of minimal interaction still hadn't faded, despite the last few years or so.  
    Onto the topic of the last few years, they had been the most hectic and the most magnificent collection of moments in the aged  homunculus' absurdly long life.  
   To begin with, he had met Dante and shortly after became her alchemy tutor. He would give her all the the information he knew, while supervising her and gradually making improvements to her technique. He didn't require money, but she still tipped him small amounts, anyway. Those symbols of generosity, for better or for worse, helped him pay for drinks with Holly and her friends. He had still been lodging with Holly; he obviously had nowhere to go. Yet, he noticeably spent little time there; he spent most of his time with Dante at her residence.  
   After months of that routine, the strange alchemist known as Bombastus had gained some recognition in the local community. Not a lot, but enough to obtain a few acquaintances in the bars and markets. He enjoyed it, albeit in his own way: many unaware people would assume the man to be cold and generally grumpy all the time, but people closer to him knew he better than to take his hard exterior personally.  
    Having cleared the journey from his study room, he reached the source of the hail. That was the sitting room. More specifically, it came from one of his greatest achievements in alchemy and one of his beloved sons.

* * *

  
    Theo had been fully aware, for more or less of his entire life, that it would have been an impossibility for him to reproduce. He was not a real human, after all, despite the skin he wore. Yet, despite what he may have said of human reproduction back in Xerxes, he would have been lying, if he said he hadn't always been both curious and a tad envious of the notion: creating a completely new creature, passing on one's own knowledge to it, and seeing it grow into someone admirable and worthy of life; it seemed intoxicating to the homunculus. He had wondered, if that was what his creator thought when he created him. However, he doubted it.  
    Still, it was an impossibility.  
    But Theophrastus Bombastus – "the dwarf in the flask" – made it possible.  
    To save both time and decency, the details of exactly how will be glossed over: it isn't exactly for the faint of heart. Essentially, he experimented in creating artificial human tissue, using his body's stem cells, and using a small level of alchemy to arrange them correctly. As his experiments went on, he went from basic tissue, to organs and blood, to functional limbs, to abominable human bodies. From that, he managed to create particular... baby-making substances and intended to used that to make his spawn.  
    Dante – being both close to him after all their time together, as well as being quite aware of his honesty and scientific inconsideration of ethics – was in full knowledge about what was going on. He was fairly upfront about the topic, as well as his methods, and often explained them in detail to her when she showed interest. Although it was hard to tell, she could always detect a certain emotion whenever he explained the topic: typically, when he talked about what he had done or could do, he would display either stoic disinterest or simple pride; however, Dante could actually see genuine joy and passion in his features, in his voice and in his mannerisms. He must have really wanted a child, she thought, pitying him slightly.    Perhaps that was why she did not object to him working at her house, or hanging decrepit bodies on hooks in the basement.  
    "No! Absolutely not! I'm drawing the line there!"  
    Of course, he went a little too far, one late evening.  
    "Please Dante. I could create the appropriate sperm cells from this body's DNA, but I need a real human egg cell, as well as a human to incubate it."  
    "Theo, you really don't know what you're asking," she stated, while grimacing at his use of the 'scientific' terms.  
    Normally, Dante could maintain a neutral demeanour when it came to science and alchemy, especially when it came to discussing things with Theo – who, while was not upright offensive, did have a bit of trouble realising what might be sensitive for some. Alternatively, Dante would never have describe this situation as a normal one.  
    "Is it the incubation part you're worried about? If you agree, I can assure you I won't allow you to be harmed... in the long-term," he offered, assuming he could reason with her.  
    "For heaven sake, no," she exclaimed, subconsciously trying to scuttle herself away, yet still staying just to argue.  
    "First, it's called 'pregnancy', and I know you know that. Second, do you actually realise you're asking me to have a child with you?"  
    For the first time, the homunculus faltered. A contemplated look appeared on his face, which was soon followed by a look of despondency and... dejection.  
    "Would you not like that?" He asked, looking away.  
    Wait, Dante thought, was he...  
    "Do you…" Dante began, unsure of exactly how to phrase the question, "actually want to raise a child with me?"  
    To Dante's knowledge, she thought Theo only saw her as an apprentice, or a friend at best. He wasn't good at expressing feelings, so… maybe he felt something that she didn't realise.  
    In response to Dante's question, he seemed to shy away a bit, likely feeling foolish as well as dejected.  
    He took a few unsteady breathes, before answering, "I just thought… that… I…:"  
    She had never seen him this unsure before. She felt her heart sink. He must have felt tortured, considering he had rarely ever trusted people enough to share any of his thoughts before. Then she realised something: he was always willing to talk to her; whether it was his extraordinary alchemy, his honest opinions, or even his doubtful backstory, he seemed to trust her more than anyone else.  
    "Considering all the humans I know, I… think you'd be… good to…" Theo began again, before falling short at getting to the point.  
    However, Dante knew where he was going, and decided to finish his sentence for him: "start a family with?"  
    "Yes," the homunculus conceded, before standing straight and returned to his typical demeanour, "however, I can tell that you are not interested. I'm sorry, if it seemed like I was pushing you. I'll find some other method. Good night."  
    He began to make his way back down to the basement, where he would either sleep on his chair or work all night.  
    "Wait," Dante called out without thinking, causing his to stop and look back.  
    "I did say that I wasn't interested, yes. But, that was because I thought you saw me as a means to an end… or a cog in a machine, or… something,"  
    "But, now I'm not too sure. You made it sound like you… liked me more than I thought."  
    She looked straight into his eyes, to read his soul for even the smallest amount of deceit.  
    "Tell me: am I just an incubator to you, or am I something else?"  
    Maintaining eye contact, he answered, "You are not a mere tool to me, Dante. I would not have bothered asking for permission, if that was the case.  
    "To be honest, you are different from other humans I've known. I do not know why, but I feel differently toward you. I enjoy your company; I respect you; you seem trustworthy. I am not entirely sure, but I think it may be love, or some sort of variety of that.  
    "I could have asked any female to assist. I chose you. That was not just because I thought you'd agree, nor was it just because you have good genes. I did actually want to start a family… like other humans. Additionally, I would have liked it, if you would assist in their upbringing: I was not really sure, if I could do that alone."  
    Dante was contemplating this for a while. She had not detected any lies, so… what did she do?  
    "I'll think about your offer," she concluded for the time being.  
    "Really?" Theo asked, some hope returning to him.  
    "I'll think about it," she repeated, "a nine month pregnancy and raising a child isn't something I can just agree to on a whim. I'll need some time."  
    "I understand," Theo responded respectfully, "I will put my work on hold for as long as you need."  
    They both shared content looks with each other, both feeling satisfied to leave this topic for a later date.  
    "Now, good night, Dante," Theo said, as he began to move on.  
    "You too, Theo. Try to actually sleep, tonight."  
    "Understood."  
    As they both returned to their respective resting places, their minds refused to put the thought of children out of their heads. Soon, each of them dreamt of hypothetical futures, in which both a homunculus and a human lived in a quaint country home in the countryside of Resembool, with a little treasure with them. Perhaps more than just one.  
    They both wore faint smiles in their sleep, that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Huff* Trying to construct emotion-driven scenes like this make me realise just how inept I am at… well… understanding emotion.
> 
> Still, I don't think it's that bad a chapter, despite the fact it is only filler.  
> Although, there are one particular detail I included: (spoilers) the "bodies" that the homunculus constructed are essentially the mannequins (moving dolls) from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood.
> 
> By the way, I know the idea of a character creating lifeless human bodies and hooking them like slabs of meat at a butcher's may give of a red flag that the character may be a psychopath. It may go counterintuitive to my desire to swap the roles of the protagonists/antagonistsanta, if I make the only real character we've really met so far a morally grey character. But, I didn't want to change his character too much, lest he just become Hohenheim with a different name. Additionally, I like the idea of blurring the lines between binary good and evil. Besides, Father would likely be a flawed character.
> 
> Also, about the whole "experimentation" and explanation as to how a homunculus can have children, I really did need any sort of excuse to make it work. This was the first idea that came to mind.


End file.
